Cries For Rain

Blood’s On The Road.

Thoughts Explode

Like Bombs For Peace

And

Screaming Dead Geese.

Lessons Old─

Anger Blows

And

Death Makes Us Crow

History Tells Us So.

Stuck On Repeat ─

Mind Skips Lots Of Beats─

Contentment Woes

Battled Weary Toes

What’s To Gain

When Love

Cries For Rain?

H.T. Manogue

Shortsleeves.net

Grandad’s Rusty Mental Truck.

Top Of The Line

Ego’s

Ready And Primed.

Tickle That Pride

Cause─

Sanity Tells Lies.

So─

Step On The Gas

Watch That Ass.

Point Of Power

Is Any Hour─

Proof Sits In You.

Ignorance Has Instant Glue.

Aliens Times Two

Religion Gulps A Few.

Politics Has The Fess-Up Flu

When─

Fear Rides A Saucer

Looking For

That Perfect Cup

In─

Grandad’s Rusty Mental Truck.

Shortsleeves Dot Net

H.T. Manogue

Half-Grown

Loud And Useless

What’s The Plan?

Changing Piers─

With Dominant Worldly Peers?

Democracy Is Like A Fall

Caught In An Epic Brawl

Because─

Beliefs Tie Slippery Knots.

They Try To Give You

Something They’re Not.

Right?

You Know─

Get Down On Them Knees

Bow To Nothing With Fleas.

Ants Like To Tease

When─

Stumps Are Trees

With Brown Leaves.

Yep─

Honesty Looks For A Home.

And Deceit Loves Life

Half-Grown.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Runny Nose

Listen To The Sound Of Air

When Human Thoughts

Turn Bare.

Or─

While Shaving Mental Hairs.

Drop A Positive Pin

In That Brainy Whim

And Look Deep Within.

Go─

Un-Dress Ego’s Frum

Have Some Inner Fun.

Cause─

Beliefs Flow Through

That Bubbling Brook

Your Mind Took.

Looking For─

An Aurati Glow Head To Toe.

So Remember─

Truth Never Erodes

From A Vocal

Runny Nose.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

“Frying Pan Of Gold”

Tax And Duck

Cut The Foul-Mouth Rug

From The Sinking Bug.

Creative Destruction Land Of Dysfunction.

Anything Goes When Laws Explode.

Wankers Agree

Flakes On The Bench

Dig A Deep Kiss-Ass Trench.

Lots Of Fears

In Home-Made Weird.

Never Too Soon When Anger Blooms ─

And Violence Grooms With Tell-Tale Prunes─

Soaked In Gloom.

Right─

Those Hand-Made Brooms

And Silver Spoons,

In Rank Streets Under Dirty Sheets

Eat─ Then Blink.

Freedom Has A Funny Stink.

In Any Kitchen Sink.

Best Be Bold

In A

Frying Pan Of Gold.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

The Dues

Spread The News─

Emperor Loves

Those Wing-Tip Shoes.

They Sparkle In Gritty Times—

Leave Nothing Behind

But The Dirty Shine

Of An Eroding Mind.

Every Phony Verb

Is A Hard Ball Curve

That Gives

That Bruised Cat

A Lying-Brain Attack.

It’s Like─

Riding Anger Laps

In A Bloody Field

Of Red, White, And Blue─

With Num-Nut-Laced

Truths.

While Hatred

Enjoys

The Dues.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Human Under-Tow

Emotions And Intent

Energy In A Psychic Tent.

Thoughts Align

Like─

Lights For The Mind.

But─

Clouds Of Inner Fear

Act Insane

And

Cells Do The Same.

War Is The Game.

When

Choices Grow

From Angry Seeds

Planted In That

Human Under-Tow.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Dirty Diaper Fan

Quick Drying Prints

Thoughts Can Be Wimps.

When A Pot Of Fear

Hangs In Anger’s Rear

And Drops A Load

In Anxieties’ Mode.

Present Power Changes Hours.

In Sour Days

To An Iffy Maze.

Part Of The Plan─

Go,

Wash Them Hands─

Under An Ill-Smelling

Dirty Diaper Fan.

On A Shaky God Train

Shades Of Glory In Every Wanker’s Story─

Thunder Thugs. Political Pugs.

Promises Go Up In Flames.

Trust Has A Phony Name

In A Valley Filled With

Ego-Driven Nerve Pain.

It’s

Just Like A Pack

Of Inner Cells

On The Way To Hell

Cruising Through

A Slippery Swollen Brain

On A Shaky God Train.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Ass-Bent Years

Special Spot On The World’s Pot

Grunts And Groans

With A Garlic Tone.

Golfing Bro Goes Round And Round

Making Angry Sounds ─

Wearing A Nobel Crown.

At A Time When Ally Beefs

Feel Like Crimes

And

Nowhere Near Sublime.

But─

It’s Instant Relief For Swollen Feet

With A Mickey-D-Beat.

All That Waste Has A Bitter Taste.

Cause Bolts Of Fear Skin Dance

In Ass-Bent Years.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

As A Keepsake

Mind’s Open. No Need For Tokens.

Thoughts Rush By ─Just To Be Fly.

Razor Sharpe Hours Shower Internal Flowers

Grasping Beauty As It Unfolds─

You Know─

Praise To The Bee In Its Quest To Be.

Weather’s Never Old. But Love Is Bold.

Nature’s Plan Is A Juicy Chaos Land.

Everything Grand In Mixed Sand.

Pull Up Nasty Stakes

Keep An Eye On The Flakes

When The Body Keeps

Ancient Mental Fakes

As A Keepsake.

www.shortsleeves.net

H.T. Manogue